


Pray // Prey [WIP]

by KindListener



Category: Skinner (1993)
Genre: M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindListener/pseuds/KindListener
Summary: During his nightly walks, Cassidy's been spying a stranger wandering about. A particularly cute stranger. Turns out the stranger has taken a liking to him, too.
Relationships: Dennis Skinner/Original Character(s)





	Pray // Prey [WIP]

**Author's Note:**

> (Drawing some inspiration from Chiralismdoll's headcanons because they're accurate.)

There's a sharp click as Cassidy locks the door of his apartment. Dusk is passing over LA like a ghost, a fog sinking over the buildings and making the whole city seem murky. Cassidy pulls his denim jacket over his shoulders, his plain grey t-shirt clinging to his body. His black jeans cast down to a pair of stained, off-white hi-tops. He appears on street-level, passing his fingers through his soft, blonde hair. The night air is cool, as always, but the atmosphere is oppressive, heavy and almost suffocating. His nightly stroll brings Cassidy to a diner, where he orders a coffee, pulls out a book and places his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. Just as he's reading through the conclusion of _'The Tell-Tale Heart'_ , a familiar face passes by the window of the diner. Illuminated by the neon signs, the stranger's face is strikingly beautiful; dark eyes shielded by thick glasses, his parted lips huffing out a slow breaths. Cassidy cocks his head as the stranger stops, glancing at the signs. Dark eyes drift over Cassidy, a nightly tradition, and the blonde man smiles and raises his hand in a friendly wave. The stranger raises his hand too, giving Cassidy a short wave and a small smile that makes his eyes light up. It's been like this for a week or two; late night walks and greetings to the stranger. Tonight, he decides, won't be like the night before this or the one before that. Cassidy holds up a finger and the stranger slips a hand into the pocket of his jeans as the blonde gulps down the last of his coffee, folds his reading glasses into his coat and stuffs away his book.

Outside the diner, Cassidy steps up to the stranger, studying the harsh shadows across his face, courtesy of the street lamp above them. The stranger wears a leather jacket over a buttoned flannel shirt over a white vest, all tucked into his tan chinos. Yet, despite his seemingly lacking fashion sense, the stranger is very handsome. Handsome enough to grasp his attention and hold it in the palm of his hand.  
"Nice evening." He starts, a small, friendly smile playing at the corners of his lips. It seems strange, Kendal not knowing his name but feeling like he's known this man his entire life.  
"Cool and foggy, the perfect nice for an ominous, night time stroll." Cassidy smiles back, anxiously playing with a soft lock of his blonde hair. Dark eyes fixate on the finger twining into his hair as Cassidy clears his throat. "I-I'm sorry. I-- This sounds odd. Umm... I've seen you wandering around these parts as it's usually my go-to spot but I've never... Jeez, I'm sorry." He waits for Cassidy to stop blundering his way through a sentence.  
"My name's Dennis. Dennis Skinner." His voice damn near makes Cassidy melt.  
"I-I'm Cassidy but, please, call me Cass." He holds out his hand and Dennis pauses for a moment to place down his case before grasping it in both of his own, palms and fingers caressing the smooth flesh of Cassidy's hand in the guise of a handshake.  
"Cass." Dennis repeats, rolling the syllable along his tongue, across his lips. "Mind if I walk you home?" He asks and Cassidy shakes his head, surprised by the stranger's forward attitude. "On second thought, my place is closer, if you'd care to stop by for a drink?" There's a shadow that darts behind his kind eyes and Cassidy catches it before glancing at the suspicious case at his feet. _Say no; he's obviously dangerous--_  
"That sounds nice."

The trip back to Dennis's apartment seems to pass by in the blink of an eye, conversation flowing easily between the two. Cassidy had asked him about his home town and Dennis had elaborated on the subject, also talking about his parents, one of which he lost at a very young age.  
"And yourself?" Dennis asks, as if he'd just been talking about the weather.  
"Oh! Umm... I was born and raised in LA. I'm honestly not that interesting." Cassidy chuckles shyly and Dennis shakes his head.  
"I find that it's the quietest people that are the most interesting. What aren't they telling you? What're they hiding?" He teases, his voice like silk against Cassidy's eardrums. The two step up to the house where Dennis rents a room and he lets them in silently, leading them toward his door and stepping inside.

Dennis switches on the light and carefully places his case on the bed before glancing over to Cassidy. "Do you want anything to drink? I'll go grab it from the kitchen." He asks and Cassidy nods. The light is watery but it's still more than the street lamp and he can see the dark brown of Dennis's eyes, his gaze piercing but warm.  
"Please. Just some cold water though, please." Dennis smiles that warm, friendly smile and nods, ducking out of the doorframe. Cassidy takes a look around. It's home-y. Not spacious but he doesn't need that much space. Soon, he's back through the door with two glasses of water, holding one out for his guest.  
"I have to admit, seeing you in the same booth of that diner's been the highlight of my nights." He sighs, closing the door and taking a gulp of his water before setting it down on his dresser. Dennis wets his lips and sighs. "Listen, I'm sorry about this." Cassidy cocks his head and looks at the water. It looks fine but, now that he mentions it, it does taste...odd.  
"Why? What did you...do to my...water...?" The world fades out into a dull buzz in Cassidy's ears as he weakly pushes against Dennis's arms as they go to catch him. Cassidy's glass falls to the floor, spilling water over the carpet. "N-No, get off, I..." He slurs as Dennis grabs him under his armpits and hauls him onto the freshly-made bed. _Scream. You need to scream. It's the middle of the night, people will hear you._ Hesitantly, Cassidy opens his mouth. "Help...! Please, I'm being...drugged!" He tries but his voice is too weak, his pleas coming out as hoarse whispers.  
"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you." Dennis states, his thumb stroking across Cassidy's jawline gently. The blonde crumples against the mattress, the drugs taking effect as Dennis takes his hand, twining their fingers together...

When he awakes, Cassidy gently tugs at his wrists, finding them bound above him, his ankles tied to either corner at the bottom of his bed.  
"Wh-What is--" But you can barely get a sentence out.  
"Oh, you're so pretty like that." Dennis sighs. Cassidy is still fully clothed so there's that. "Sorry about the whole drugging thing." The dark-haired man shrugs and cups the other man's cheek tenderly. "I just wanted you to get more acquainted with me, y'know?" He explains and Cassidy nods fearfully. "You don't have to be scared, Cass, I'm not going to hurt you but it's gonna feel real good." He flicks a knife from his wrist and Cassidy flinches, Dennis stalking closer.  
"Please, Dennis, don't--" He plunges the knife into the material of your shirt and tears it straight down the middle. Cassidy sucks in a breath and Dennis straddles his hips, fingers fanning out over the smooth flesh of Cassidy's chest.  
"There. That's better." Dennis smiles, dipping down and inhaling the scent of your body. "You smell so good..." He keeps his face at the crook of your neck, just breathing and humming. "You know, my father wasn't that good of a guy. He was always out for number one, never caring about me or...anyone else for that matter but there's one thing he couldn't stand and that was homosexuals. Gay people." His hands snake down, popping the button on Cassidy's jeans. "So, I would've been -- what? -- sixteen when my dad stormed in from work. I'm, y'know, getting off on the couch because he was supposed to be at work 'til late. I'd gotten my hands on a magazine from some boys, at school. My dad beat me senseless, that night. He said I was 'a filthy piece of shit', that I 'was a disgrace to him'." Dennis sighs, his fingers slipping into Cassidy's underwear, curling around the base of his limp cock. "The strangest thing? I just wanted it more and, when I saw you in the diner, I knew you were special. You looked sweet and like you wouldn't judge me for who I am... I'm not a freak, y'know?" Dennis pulls away, smiling sweetly. "You're so so soft, Cass." He draws his hands away, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and pulling his vest over his head. "I'm not going to hurt you." He repeats, sliding his hands down his bare chest. "I just wanna make you feel good, yeah?" After he slices through the seams of Cassidy's jeans and boxer-briefs, Dennis gently draws his fingers across the blonde's thighs. There are scars here, many of them, clean-cut and deep.  
"These are-- Oh, Cass..." Cassidy turns his head and shudders as those fingers, soft and slow, zig-zag across Cassidy's thighs. "Don't worry, I'll make you feel so good."


End file.
